Gone Too Soon
by twimax
Summary: His music was definitely worth listening to back in the '80s." murmured Edward, more to himself. "Shame that he died." RIP Michael Jackson
1. Morphine

**Gone Too Soon**

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Twilight_ nor will I ever be talented enough to own Michael Jackson. :P All belongs to their respected owners, and this was all made for fun.**

**Author's Note: First of all, this story is not meant to be taken seriously. I am perfectly aware that famous pop icons playing a huge part in the _Twilight _world is far-fetched, but I somehow felt the need to write this. All characters are slightly OCC. Like I said, this was made for fun. Secondly, it's my first fanfic ever so... take it easy. ;) And lastly, RIP Michael Jackson.**

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**Bella's POV-**

Never, in the entirety of my existence, had I ever noticed how _overrated_ summer was.

As I strolled through the brightly lit corridors of the main house in a dragging human pace, rays of sunshine filtered through the glass wall, casting everything it touched in an unusual golden glow. The view of the vast region behind the house looked even more spectacular now that it was temporarily relieved of gloomy weather. In the distance, cars all across town roared to life, accompanied by enthusiastic voices. It was the closest resemblance to Phoenix that Forks has ever achieved…yet its beauty seemed to have no effect on me whatsoever.

Sighing, I turned around, retraced my steps, and ended up once again walking aimlessly down the stairs. All was calm as I entered the great family living room, but that was because everyone except Edward and I had gone hunting for the thousandth time this week. Speaking of which...

I spotted him lying horizontal across the pale leather sofa, wearing a white collared shirt and beige pants. He stared straight into the TV screen, a complete statue except for his out-stretched arm, which quivered on the remote control. His eyes continually flashed from the television's reflection as he flipped through a hundred channels per second. Finally, he settled for a local news channel and withdrew his arm to relax against the seat, practically blending into it.

"Bored?" I leaned over to whisper in his ear. He jumped the slightest bit and I couldn't suppress a chuckle.

"Sorry, I'm not used to you sneaking up on me like that." Edward muttered, not looking up from the screen. He straightened up and I took a seat next to him, nudging him playfully in the side.

"Is eternity usually this tedious?" I asked, letting out a dramatic yawn. "You could have warned me."

Edward stiffened and turned to me with an expression so astonished, it was comical.

"Of course, what is eternal damnation next to the lack of entertainment?" he replied sarcastically. Yet, I could sense a hint of genuine hurt and panic in his voice. This amused me further, for some reason.

I laughed and raised my hands as if to ward him off. "Relax, Edward. It was a joke." He growled and put his head down, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. It was a habit, I noticed. Something Edward did in times of emotional stress. Judging from his state, it was no time for fooling around. But the grin just wouldn't wipe off my face.

Then, he murmured, "I swear, when the time comes, you'll get sick of immortality. You'll get sick of _me_."

My mood softened at his words and I felt immediately guilty. Randomly, I wondered whether I'd become sadistic in a couple of decades. Unable to find anything appropriate to say, I reached out and kissed the palm of his hand. He looked up at me.

"Never." I declared in a confident voice. "Forgive me for being so insensitive. I just wanted something to do."

"Forgive me for being so edgy." Edward laughed and smiled for the first time. Even now, it still took my breath away. Circling his arms around me, he rested my head against his shoulder and we leaned against each other, perfectly at ease. I tried to focus my attention to the news, although I was watching with only minimal interest.

_Coming up next is our weather report for this weekend...some light showers in the Port Angeles area, but overall we're looking forward to some real sunshine...tomorrow, we will have full coverage of Farrah Fawcett and her deadly battle with cancer...breaking news: this just in...we have received confirmation that King of Pop Michael Jackson, who was rushed to the hospital this morning, has now died from cardiac arrest at the age of 50...we're taking you live to the UCLA Medical Center..._

"Is something wrong?"

"It's nothing." I answered, but my voice seemed far away. What was that I just heard? It felt like an icy path of morphine was slipping through my body, numbing my senses, breaking a connection with reality I have long fought to keep. It wasn't until a single image flashed across the screen that I was on the verge of losing it. A very audible gasp escaped my lips. There, in the picture, was a man on a stretcher surrounded by medical equipment. Despite the frantic scene around him, his expression looked oddly peaceful. Even stranger, a childlike aura seemed to leap out of the image in the form of a face with a nose too narrow and skin unnaturally pale...

"Bella?"

I looked up to find myself alone on the sofa, leaning forward like Charlie when he is deeply engrossed in a baseball game. Edward had left and I hadn't even noticed. He stood on the other side of the room with the remote back in his hand. The TV was turned off.

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**Well, that's it for now. I hope it wasn't too boring. The next chapter will probably be better. :) Let me know what you think in a review. I know where this story is going so the next chapter won't take that long to be up. Then again, I have school so my priorities aren't focused on this fanfic. But it will get done! All constructive critisism is welcome. **

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	2. Childhood

**Gone Too Soon**

**Hey peoples! Thanks to anyone who's reading and I appreciate feedback. This chapter will be very short but the next one will defintely be longer. If it's not up by tomorrow, it'll be up next weekend. Sorry. I miss summer. :( I don't own anything. Enjoy.**

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"It's nothing." I repeated quickly as he was about to open his mouth. "I was just…deep in thought. That's all."

Edward nodded once. As time passed by, we remained locked in our positions, unsure of what to say. I was left thinking of the memories that so intrusively and unexpectedly invaded my mind just now.

"Yeah," I whispered. "That's all…"

"Was it him?" Caught off guard, I jumped in my seat.

"Sorry?"

"Him." He pointed to the blank TV screen. "Michael Jackson. You seem really upset by what happened."

I sighed. Both of us were past secrecy and I knew that. But what I felt just now was difficult to explain without it sounding ridiculous. Still, I decided to go with the truth.

"It's just that…my mom was sort of obsessed with him when I was four and it was one of the few of her pastimes that I was actually involved in and--And we'd used to listen to his songs all the time. I guess his death came as a surprise for me. Fifty is a pretty young age to die these days." I shrugged. Expecting to see the hint of amusement that sparkled in his eye whenever I said something particularly funny, I was amazed to find his features stunned with something like wonder.

"I see."

Silence. Lost in our own thoughts, the moment wasn't exactly awkward. This did not, however, prevent me from growing self-conscious as time went by and Edward had still found nothing else to say that exceeded two syllables.

"Look, as random as this is, my childhood was never absolute misery. It just so happens that he was one of the few things that really appealed to me--"

"Oh, there's no need to be defensive, Bella." Edward said, evidently becoming more animated as he regained his humor. "It's just…classical, contemporary alternative, and now '80s pop music?" He shook his head. "There's no consistency when it comes to you."

I bit my lip. As if intrigued by the uncommon weather, he trudged toward the window and squinted at the yellow sun.

"His music was definitely worth listening to," Edward murmured, more to himself. "One of the few who made the '80s bearable. Shame that he died."

I had to stop my mouth from popping wide open. "You, a Jackson fan?"

"Quality mainstream." he replied wryly. "A rarity."

In the distance, a splash echoed through the grounds. I stood up immediately. The familiarity of the routine was somewhat comforting after today's foreign events.

"Let's go outside and meet them." I suggested. "Enjoy the weather. Shall we?"

"That's a nice idea." We skipped up the stairs side by side, Edward's arm wrapped tightly around my shoulder.

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**Ahh...so short. R&R please. Next chap should be up ASAP.**

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	3. Thriller

**Gone Too Soon**

**Thanks to everyone who has at least visited this story. You guys are the ice beneath my skates :P But seriously, thank you. This chapter took me all week to finish. I had to write between assignments. Enjoy. And by the way RunswithVampires123, you completely read my mind. ;) That's awesome. I don't own anything.**

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Barefooted and slightly disoriented, we broke into a jog. The mesmerizing clarity of our surroundings plus a warm breeze that carried every scent possible was truly awakening. Before long, the specks of light we observed from afar rapidly grew into seven distinguishable individuals. The smallest of them, who seemed desperate to close the gap between us, sprinted.

"Mom! Dad!" Renesmee's auburn ringlets bounced as she jumped up and down. "I tackled the HUGEST bear today." Her heels skidded across the dry soil as she came to a halt. "Drained it all by myself."

"That's very good." I said, picking the brown leaves out of her untamed hair.

" I'm sorry I missed it." Edward replied.

Emmett stood behind Renesmee with his arms crossed. He rolled his eyes.

"She's totally exaggerating. It couldn't have been more than ten feet--"

"Nuh-uh." She stuck her tongue at her uncle, then held her palm out. "I'm telling the truth. Wanna see? Wanna see?"

"Maybe later, honey." I said, brushing off the small hand that was centimeters away from my face.

"Alright. Pssst….Dad." Renesmee pulled at Edward's sleeve, beckoning him to bend down.

"It…was…a grizzly." she breathed into his ear. "No wonder why Uncle Emmett is extra pissed off." My eyes widened.

"What did you just--"

"So," Edward hastily interrupted. "How was hunting?"

I glared at Edward in a way that demanded what the hell he was doing.

_Let it go, _was his answering expression.

"How was hunting?" Rosalie asked, half laughing. "You seriously did nothing today did you?"

"Nope." Alice arrived a little later. She was too preoccupied with swinging through tree branches. "Couldn't stand checking up on them. It made _me_ want to fall asleep."

"It wasn't too bad." I told her. "I walked around the house, the view was really pretty…"

"Sounds exciting."

"Watched the news," Edward added. "Two people died."

"Oh, do tell more." Rosalie retorted.

"One of them," his voice grew quiet. "was Michael Jackson."

This was effective in shutting everyone up. That is, except for the little one, who asked who Michael Jackson was. Eventually, Carlisle, Esme, and Jasper caught up and we walked back to the house in silence.

"So, who died?" asked Carlisle, jokingly. "We came up and you all became so quiet."

Everyone was back in the living room, engaged in our usual activities: Edward fingering keys at the piano with me sitting next to him, Rosalie tinkering with a small piece of machinery, Alice designing wardrobe with a specialized computer software, Emmett and Jasper arm-wrestling on the carpeted floor, Esme observing blueprints for a future project, Carlisle reading a bible-sized volume, and Renesmee experimenting with newly bought dolls.

"No one important." Rosalie said through clenched teeth.

Carlisle's brow furrowed. "Who?"

"A guy named Michael Jackson." piped Renesmee.

Esme glanced up in interest. Carlisle marked his spot and set the book down. I heard his tongue click several times.

"He was all the rage not too long ago. Not a very easy person to forget." he sat unmoving, his eyes growing reminiscent. "Talented boy. He had everything to offer."

Emmett gave a low whistle, an act of genuine sympathy.

"How did he die?' Carlisle asked.

"Cardiac arrest." Alice explained, her voice not as high as usual. "Took the wrong mixture of pills and painkillers. At least from what I can see."

"So is anyone gonna tell me who Michael Jackson is?" Renesmee asked, but was not answered.

"Alice, just curious, but how could you have not foreseen this?" Edward said at the same time.

"ME?" Alice looked taken aback. "You think I spend my time invading celebrities' personal lives? You think I get a kick out of watching Lindsay Lohan get wasted…again?" She closed the laptop. "Even if I did see it, what's there to do? Fly to LA, go to his mansion, walk up to MJ and say, 'By the way, on June 25 you'll collapse and _die_. Don't ask me how I know this. Oh, and fire your doctor.'" She paced the room as she said this, gesturing at the ceiling. After getting over her short burst of temper, she sank into the sofa and covered her face. "In a weird way, I would have done just that. I would have tried to save him."

"It still would have happened, Alice. Regardless." Esme soothed her. "Not everyone is immortal." Jasper, looking slightly shaken, nodded in agreement.

"Hmph." Rosalie continued with her tinkering, keeping her eyes down. She was either trying hard not to listen or trying hard not to look like she was listening. Esme gazed at her with sad eyes.

"Rose, would you like to add something?"

Mechanical sounding _clink_s issued from Rosalie's skilled hands. Finally, she placed her metal toy aside.

"It's highly unfortunate." said Rose simply, her tone formal. She still avoided to meet anyone's eyes.

Jasper suddenly laughed, the lightness of it contrasting with the somber atmosphere.

"Let it out, Rosalie." He said, smirking. "It's not healthy to keep your feelings bottled up."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

"He means," Edward intervened. "That that's a pretty mild reaction coming from you. I happen to remember a certain someone in hysterics during the _Bad_ concert in 1988."

Rosalie's face remained porcelain white. But I found that it wasn't difficult to imagine her flushing at this very moment.

"If you're talking about that girl who fainted halfway through, I warned Emmett to keep his shirt on."

Edward's eyebrow rose. A smug grin was playing at his lips.

"Ugh, must you make this so hard for me?!" Rosalie growled, expressing more emotion than I've ever seen of her. She stormed off to the other side of the room. With her back to us, Edward whispered something through the corner of his mouth that sounded suspiciously like, "Thanks, Jasper." The three brothers shook with silent laughter.

I was shocked at how much of an overly zealous teenager Rosalie sounded like at this point. She stood as still as a statue, mumbling semi-coherent sentences that ranged from fan girl praise to low oaths and curses. This was a side I had not seen of her before. But apparently Edward, Emmett, and Jasper have since they were all literally rolling on the floor. Even Esme and Carlisle, whose countenances expressed a convincing pretense of concern, could not hide their amused eyes.

"Give me a break," Rosalie said to the wall. "After all, the man _could _dance."

"I COMPLETELY agree." Jacob emerged from the other side of the front door, holding a brown box in one hand. He jogged into the house, his face twisted in concentration. I wondered why before I realized a full two seconds later that he was doing the running man--or what looked like it.

"No one could hold a torch to _my _skills!" he howled…only to almost trip over a table's leg.

"Jacob, honestly." Jasper chuckled. "You're a good fighter. But when it comes to dancing…" He shook his head.

"Hey, Jake!" After being long bored of the topic of conversation, Renesmee's eyes lit up with excitement. She ran into his out-stretched arms.

"Hey. I brought you some snicker doodle cookies Emily made. I know you like them." The way his voice changed into a much softer and gentler tone while he spoke to her was incredible. Renesmee took the box from him with eagerness, pecked him on the cheek, and skipped off into the kitchen.

"So what were you just rambling about blondsucker?" Jacob asked, directed as Rosalie.

"Michael Jackson, mutt. ("Who's Michael Jackson?" my daughter groaned from the other room.) And will you come up with better names? I've no patience for your stupid, tasteless humor…"

"Alright then," he said during another fruitless endeavor at showing proper foot coordination. "How 'bout 'bleech'? Blond leech. It's what you are and what you smell like."

Scowling, Rosalie crossed towards him with a haughty strut.

"That's even worse…and don't you DARE do the moonwalk." She stomped on his foot mid-slide. "It's Michael Jackson's signature move. You'll disgrace the dead."

"HEY!" Renesmee sauntered out of the kitchen holding an empty box, her sticky mouth covered in crumbs.

"Who--is--Michael Jackson?" she demanded irritably. Jacob did a quick spin and threw himself onto a nearby chair. It creaked at the burden of his weight. I impatiently wiped the crumbs off of my daughter's mouth as she climbed into my lap.

"Just some child star-slash-prodigy who grew up, became famous for a while, went downhill, hit rock bottom, then died." Jake rolled his eyes. "Typical Hollywood tragedy."

At his words, the room was plagued with an air of disapproval, which became more distinct when Rosalie voiced her thoughts.

"What do _you_ know, dog?" She glared at him, her arms crossed. "This is why I loathe children these days. Just when you think they can't get any stupider, the next generation comes along. I bet you haven't even listened to a single Michael Jackson song." Jacob stood up.

"Your point? So the freak's dead! I don't get what the big deal is. Especially considering that he had freaking sleepovers with children."

"Right. Says the guy who imprinted on a newborn baby!"

"But it's nothing remotely like that!"

"Then how can you say that's the case between Michael and those children?" Jacob's jaw dropped and he turned an unpleasant shade of red. Judging from his expression, he didn't know whether to laugh or explode.

"That is wrong on so many levels! First of all, they weren't his kids, he hardly knew them--"

"Yeah, I'm sure you and Nessie were besties when you first laid eyes on--"

"HEY!"

"WHAT?!" Rosalie and Jacob screamed in unison at a very curious looking Renesmee who was rooted to her spot, apparently awed by the scene in front of her.

"What?" they repeated in a less sharp voice. Although they regretted their outburst, their eyes periodically shifted toward each other, still bearing a glint of rivalry.

"I wanna hear a Michael Jackson song." the two-year-old effortlessly crumpled the box into a small ball and threw it across the room where it shot straight into a wastebasket. "Aunt Rose never seems to like any of the music Daddy plays on the stereo. If this is what she likes…" She looked up at us expectedly. "So?"

We all looked at each other for a second. Then, taking her eyes off of Jacob for the first time, Rosalie asked, "Edward, you have _Thriller_, don't you?"

"Yes…" he admitted reluctantly. Everyone stared. "Well…I…fine."

He zoomed up the stairs, heading for his former bedroom that now served as a spare music room. When he came back, I couldn't help but gape at the album he was holding. The cover art was slightly faded, but other than that, it was in decent condition. I had seen that photo so many times as a child. Now, however, there was something eerie about seeing it again after so many years. Edward took the CD out of its case and slipped it into a small, silver boom box on an upper shelf that carried only a fraction of the grandeur his stereo held.

A split second after he pressed the play button, Rosalie shot across the room and took Edward's place in front of the music player. He stepped aside just in time, sighed, and muttered in a near perfect imitation of Rosalie's voice, "Excuse me, Edward." She ignored him.

After a moment of fumbling with the volume controls, the sound settings, and pushing the forward button a few times, Rose stepped back as if to admire her work. A digital number "6" was displayed on the right hand side of the rectangular screen.

Immediately, music started playing. I felt it hammering through the soles of my feet, sending a stream of steady vibrations up my body. I was speechless. The music played with a louder and cleaner sound than I had expected. But this wasn't why I was at a loss for words. The living room disappeared, replaced by a huge open stadium, completely dark, except for a million tiny white stars glittering from above. Bodies of blurred, faceless people pushed into me so tightly, I no longer felt three-dimensional. The obscured stage in front of me lit up with a single spotlight and the silhouette of a dancing man. Heat warming my cheeks, the beat of the percussions pounding like a surrogate heart, I felt human again, as I jumped up and down, chanting along with the crowd. _Michael! Michael! Michael!_

I opened my eyes, surprised that they were closed in the first place. However, the second I did…

"Oh!" exclaimed Esme, clapping her hands.

"Oh, wow!" cried Renesmee.

"Oh, no." Edward covered his face.

"Oh, please." scoffed Jacob.

"Oh, baby."

Rosalie moved with precision, a shadow of the man himself. She kicked her leg up, missing Emmett's head by a centimeter. He smirked devilishly.

Instruments played one by one, and a familiar voice followed suit.

_She was more like a beauty queen_

_From a movie scene._

_I said, "Don't mind but what do ya mean_

_I am the one,_

_Who would dance, on the floor,_

_In the 'round." _

_She said I am the one,_

_Who would dance, on the floor,_

_In the 'round._

"Billie Jean." I mouthed, recognizing the song. As Rosalie continued to dance, Renesmee stared with admiration. The rest of us couldn't help but be entertained by the wannabe Jackson. Even Edward had to fight a smile.

Involuntarily, I started to sing along with the words.

_People always told me,_

_Be careful what you do._

_Don't go around breaking young girls' hearts._

"You too, Bells?" asked Jacob, exasperated.

"It's catchy." I said defensively. "Don't you think so?"

"S'alright."

By the second chorus, I noticed with immense satisfaction Jake tapping his foot and humming along, his voice an octave lower.

"What?" he said when he saw me looking at him. "It's catchy." We both laughed.

The song faded away, but the energy of the room did not.

"Aunty! You have to teach me." Renesmee ran to the player and was about to jump to press the rewind button, but the song already started playing again.

"Alice told me to put it on repeat." Rosalie laughed, then scooped Renesmee into her arms.

"Just had a feeling," Alice said. "And um…" she lifted the table in front of her and gingerly set it aside, leaving a wide open space big enough for multiple people.

"Can I join in?" she asked, then grinned. "I bet I can do the leg kick higher than you can."

Jasper, to my astonishment, marched over and stood next to Alice, his hands buried in his pockets. "Me too, if it's fine with you."

"O-kay." Rose uttered, eyebrows raised.

"Bella," Edward whispered just loud enough for me to hear. "Do you know any of Michael Jackson's moves?"

I stifled a giggle and mouthed in response, "Like the back of my own hand."

"Then let's go." Edward smiled at me suggestively, and took my hand in his.

"We're in!" I announced, then dragged ourselves over to the circle of participants.

"Join the party." Emmett said. "That leaves three people."

"Carlisle? Esme?" Jasper called out. "Jacob?" Carlisle and Esme glanced at each other questioningly, and seemed to have made an unspoken agreement.

"Don't see why not." Carlisle said. One more to go.

"Jake," Excitement brewed inside of me. When Jacob looked up, his eyes were unreadable. I nodded toward the rest of the family. "Come on."

He stood up slowly and stared, eyes shifting, scrutinizing our expressions. Finally--

"Alright, leeches," a corner of his mouth turned up. "Show me what you've got."

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Time was lost in laughter.

"Aunt Rose," Renesmee had asked during the instrumental portion of the second playing. "What was that cool sliding thing you just did?"

"The moonwalk? Yeah, Michael Jackson made that move famous. It's real easy. Once you get the hang of it, it feels like you're flying..."

We danced until the sun set over the horizon, until Jacob stopped clutching his stomach everytime Carlisle spun and grabbed his crotch, until Renesmee grew tired and wanted to go back to the cottage.

"That was epically fun." she yawned.

Edward isolated himself after the eighth number and said that he was content in watching everyone else. While the rest were having a competition to see who could do the most spins (Alice won, 32 spins in a row), I sat next to him in the corner of the room.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked.

"More than I could admit."

We didn't speak until _Thriller _played, and they were lip-syncing to the chorus.

_'Cause this is Thriller!_

_Thiller night,_

"There is one thing I don't get, though." I began. "Rosalie."

Confusion crossed Edward's face.

"Rosalie," I repeated. "Rosalie, of all people. _Rosalie_."

He chuckled, finally understanding. "Oh, that."

"Since when has she..."

"Since the Jackson 5 first came out." Edward said. "Although, I think Motown 25 really did it for her."

"And why..."

"Hey," he interuppted me. "I don't pretend to understand Rosalie and her unhealthy attraction to man-children."

"Rose, Rose," I heard Emmett say as Vincent Price was doing his infamous rap. "Babe, am I doing this right?"

He thrusted his pelvis out with more force than necessary, guiding his hand down and vigorously grabbing his...oh, God.

"Ow! Billie Jean is not my lover--"

"Um..." Rosalie pursed her lips and didn't say another word. Renesmee peaked behind her aunt's legs and tilted her head to one side.

"What'cha doing there Uncle Emmhmmm-"

"Ness!" Jacob covered her mouth with his hand and led her away from the pair. "Uh, Jasper wants to know if you can balance on your toes..."

I was too shocked to laugh.

"Exhibit A." Edward said, and leaned back to watch more hilarious scenes unfold.

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**So there you have it. And some of you may be wondering, "Rosalie dancing like MJ?" I know, I know. Just imagine a pale, blond Janet Jackson. Don't know when the next chapter will be up, but I'll do my best. Reviews are great motivation. *hinthint* **


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